The Perfect World
by missmorganpryce
Summary: It's a wonderful world, but Wesley knows something is missing.


It's a wonderful life, reflects Wesley as he steps through the hotel doors and passes a group of people prostrated on the floor to Jasmine. He feels the love, the brotherhood of strangers now intimate friends, the peace and of course, the wonderful scent of jasmine that permeates the world now. There's so much love to spread that he might even call his father and let him in on this wonderful world if he hasn't heard about Jasmine already.

It's such a perfect world, but Wesley is grieved over the way it came to be. The horrors that had happened, the screaming and pain of innocents, the deaths and disasters...But they were all the birth pangs precluding the birth of Jasmine. Could it be that she is the Messiah, having fulfilled the Biblical prophecies of its coming in the times of chaos? It could be; prophecies, when they weren't falsified, typically came true.

He smiles at a group of people sitting together and listening to one man speak, probably of his love for Jasmine. There are people of different races and religions there, all sitting peacefully together; the way it is supposed to be. But despite all the good, Wesley realizes little things are missing. Close, personalized friendship, a lover's companionship, personal privacy in one's thoughts; these things are no more. They are a collective people now and they all share in each other's joys and experiences.

But they are a small price to pay, he rationalizes to himself, for the eternal love and sunshine in this perfect world.

He remembers the first time he went to Jasmine to discuss his concerns. She had looked up from whatever she was doing and smiled at him. Already, he felt his doubts drifting away.

"Wesley, what's on your mind?"

He chose his words carefully. "Everything is wonderful, of course, but it feels very..."

"Impersonal?" suggested Jasmine.

"Yes," said Wesley, relieved that he didn't have to say that word.

"Hate starts when people become jealous of each other, when there is favoritism and individualization. It's better this way," Jasmine lovingly said.

"Yes, of course," said Wesley.

A wrinkle marred her perfect skin. "Is there something in particular that bothers you?" Jasmine asked.

Wesley bit his lip. "Still, I miss the individual closeness, even though everything is wonderful."

Jasmine reached out to stroke his head. "It's fine to feel the loss of the old world. You were so deeply entrenched in it; it's hard to let go. But you need to move on, Wesley."

"I know."

"Is there anything else?" she asked.

Wesley decided to tell her the other thing that had been on his mind constantly.

"There was a woman..."

Jasmine nodded. "Lilah," she stated.

"I miss her," said Wesley. 'Miss' wasn't the most accurate word. He longed for her, ached for her, was consumed by her.

"Every person that died, everyone that suffered - they gave their lives freely; their pain helped bring in this new order. They sacrificed themselves for the greater good," said Jasmine gently. "Remember her, and think about how her death helped bring this one step closer. She died to help us all."

And with a wave of her hand, she dismissed him.

Wesley had been somewhat soothed, but deep in the back of his mind a little voice told him that Lilah hadn't been the type of person to sacrifice herself for the greater good. The little seed of doubt grew in him daily, tainting his pure love and faithfulness. But he could not shake these feelings, the faint hollowness inside of him that does not go away completely.

Just when he'd gotten used to Lilah, their affair had ended. He'd spent many a sleepless night lying in bed and wondering where she was, if she'd escaped safely and after her death he'd grieved for her. There had never been another woman that had understood him so well, that had been able to read his mind so accurately as to predict his actions, and there would never be another woman whose body fit his so well.

And now, even in this perfect world, he cannot shake these thoughts. It upsets him and ruins the balance, and no matter what Jasmine says, he cannot forget.

This is why he now climbs the stairs to Jasmine's room again, hoping that she can make it go away and make him whole again. Jasmine's door is open a crack and he hears numerous voices coming from the room. He hopes he won't disturb their gathering and lightly knocks on it. His knock pushes the door open a bit more and what he sees somewhat surprises him.

The people he'd heard talking are standing around and chattering as they systematically strip off their clothes and leave then piled on the floor. No one seems to notice him, and Jasmine is no where to be seen. He is vaguely disturbed by the scene; is this preparation for some sort of orgy?

He sits down in a chair surrounded by oblivious people and waits for Jasmine to show – and of course, dwell on his problem.

He wonders why he cannot forget Lilah; why, despite all the things to do and occupy his mind, at night, dead tired and half asleep, he imagines her soft caresses against his rough cheek. The way her eyelashes fluttered, the way her lips would curl into a light smile – the sharpness of her cynical words. This is usually what brings him out of his thoughts, a negative aspect of hers.

But that sort of negativity is absent is this world, and Wesley feels its loss somewhat. It's unnerving sometimes when people one would expect to be harsh and rude are kind and overly happy and somewhat trapped in their actions. It seems that no one can choose to act differently. There is only one path to travel upon and it curves straight ahead with no surprises or stumbling blocks. It is – in one word – boring and Wesley has become tired of that life very quickly.

Lilah was the furthest thing away from boredom. She was exhilaratingly unpredictable and always ducking off the path, finding new routes and ways. She had the freedom to choose – yes, that must be why she haunts him so. Because she was the ultimate example of free will. No one could force Lilah into doing something she didn't want to do, and Wesley had admired that one trait in her. But now there are none of her traits left and Wesley feels oddly betrayed.

He glances back at the people again as they finish undressing. Do they ever think this deeply, or are they content to take everything at face value? Do they even realize that they have choices left, that they don't need to be undressing for whatever odd reason...

Jasmine's hand descends on his shoulder and she caresses him lightly. He doesn't even get to tell Jasmine his problem because she already seems to know.

"Wesley, dear, you really need to get over her. The name 'Lilah' itself is a sign of bad, the mark of the night. I've banished the night, yet you still long for her. I think that you still can't believe that everything is good."

Jasmine has changed tactics this time, he notes. Instead of bringing up the good, she pulls in the bad

She beckons to a follower who is standing behind Jasmine, clad only in a light pink bra and panties.

"Wesley, this is Jennifer."

Jennifer is a tall, slim brunette that bears a faint resemblance to Lilah.

"I think you two might like each other." Jasmine lightly winks at Jennifer. Jennifer beams at Jasmine, pleased at being singled out for the pleasure of being addressed by her goddess. She slips her arm through Wesley's.

"Aren't you one of the saviors that brought Jasmine to us?" asks Jennifer. "It's lovely to meet you." She looks into his eyes and smiles, and in her eyes Wesley finds a peace of sorts; it's the first time he's directly interacted with one of the people and the love and belief she has in Jasmine are balms for his tormented soul. Lilah slips away with his doubts and he's happy again, happy for this new fresh world and is sorry he didn't believe. He opens his mouth to apologize, but Jasmine smilingly waves his apology away.

"I understand how hard change can be," she says to him.

Jennifer gently pulls at his arm and they start to walk out of the room.

"Your clothing Jennifer," Jasmine calls from behind. Jennifer blushes and lets go of his arm to get her clothes.

Jennifer turns out to be a very sweet, intelligent and entertaining young woman with a major in archaeology and they have a delightful time discussing some of the mysteries of the ancient world. There's a party at the hotel that night and Jennifer accompanies him, her arm in his as Angel and the rest of them comment on how much happier Wesley seems now. Wesley can only nod and smile with them, all the while blessing Jasmine for her wisdom.

After the mingling and the exchange of many marvelous tales of Jasmine, after the toasts and speeches and karaoke singing, Wesley and Jennifer leave.

Jennifer happens to be staying at the hotel - she'd managed to secure one of the highly prized suites – and Wesley accompanies her to her room. When they get there, he prepares to kiss her on the cheek and leave her, but Jennifer has other plans. The quick goodnight peck turns into a long mutual grope and Jennifer pulls him into her bedroom and pushes him onto the bed.

And after it's all done and they're lying there panting in bed, Wesley reflects on how nice it was to be with a woman again; the stress of Angelus had driven those thoughts away and he'd wondered if they'd ever come back.

Jennifer isn't satisfied with lying in bed silently and she starts a conversation. He would prefer the silence, but not wanting to offend her, half-heartedly listens to her speak, nodding and giving the appropriate responses. As usual, the conversation goes to Jasmine.

"She's so wonderful. I've never had anything this great in my life. I made some awful mistakes and it just ruined me. But now that's all over," murmurs Jennifer. "I mean, it's good that we don't have any things to decide anymore. I made some awful mistakes..." she repeats.

The rest of Jennifer's words fade away as Wesley considers her statement. To hear these words from a loyal follower sharply reawakens the previous musings that had been banished by Jasmine. Suddenly it makes all too much sense and the spell is broken.

None of these people have choice. Jasmine plays them like chess pieces. She'd probably directed Jennifer to go with him in order to calm him down, otherwise he doubts that Jennifer would've looked at him, her awe too consuming. Jasmine ordered around everyone and everything, and he'd bet that she had even played a part in coming to their world. Which meant... she'd arranged for Lilah's death. Lilah, a woman too close to the main players, a woman with too much strength of character to fall prey to Jasmine's new world order.

He shoves Jennifer away and jerks on a pair of pants while running for the door. He ignores her protests and runs up the corridor, up the flights of stairs (are there usually this many stairs? Is the hallway always this long?), needing to go to Jasmine, confront her with what he knows...

He bursts into her room without knocking, startling Jasmine as she sits and talks to Connor.

"It's not a perfect world," he says between pants of air. "It's your world and we just live in it. How could you do this to us? How could you..." He doesn't finish, because Connor hits him with a hard upper-cut and the blood spills from his mouth instead of words and he falls to the floor. Connor prepares to hit him again, but Jasmine calls for an end.

"This is senseless violence," she protests, waving Connor away. "Wesley, my dear Wesley, you are so wrong, but it just won't go away." She bends down in front of him and places her hands on his temples. "Just relax and let my love penetrate your doubts."

Wesley can't move anymore; her hands drain him off his strength and he must lie there, motionlessly fighting as she digs into his brain and seeks out his treacherous thoughts. He can't think anymore; his thoughts swirl and turn into a spinning abyss that he's teetering over and then falls into...

But Jasmine catches him and lifts him up gently, rising above the muddles and misgivings. It's no longer a horrible dizziness, it's a delicate cloudiness that he almost savors. He's not alone now, he doesn't need to think or make the hard decisions, and he can just sit back and let her take sweet control...

"Why is he so fixated on Lilah?" he hears Jasmine say through the fog in his brain. "I never thought he would have such an attachment to her."

Connor's response isn't loud enough to penetrate the gentle haze surrounding him. All there is are Jasmine's soft hands on his head, lovingly stroking and searching his thoughts. He's never felt so close to her before, so enveloped in her love.

Jasmine abruptly releases his head, and he drifts somewhat out of his haze.

"Don't worry," Jasmine murmurs soothingly. "Everything is all right now. You won't feel this way again." She smiles at him and he smiles back, his mind clouded and content.

"Now go back to Jennifer. You've left her all alone. That's no way to treat a woman," she gently chides.

He slowly gets up, wipes the blood from his lips, and backs out of the room, reverently facing Jasmine, not wanting to turn his back on her. All doubts have been washed away, permanently scoured and they won't be back this time. He feels clean inside. He wonders how he ever had ever had a problem forgetting Lilah or regretting the way things had turned out. She would have rejected the love, and anyone who rejected Jasmine's love didn't deserve to live in this perfect world.

Finito


End file.
